


I keep forgetting (we're not in love anymore)

by mottainai



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and retrospectively angsty fluff, Flashbacks, Getting Back Together, Hunk and Pidge are really good friends, I have the power of google and medical dramas on my side, I promise, M/M, Private Detective Keith, eventually, ex boyfriend is in the ICU and you're still listed as an emergency contact au, first class medical bulshitting, if that makes sense, journalist lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mottainai/pseuds/mottainai
Summary: Keith broke up with Lance on a sunny Thursday afternoon.Even months later, Lance still can't understand why. He tells himself he doesn't care.He's lying.Everything changes when Lance is woken by a phone call in the middle of the night. Keith has crashed his motorcycle on the interstate, and Lance is still listed as an emergency contact. With no one else available, Lance has to make some tough decisions for the man he's still trying to convince himself he doesn't love anymore.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 140
Kudos: 772





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from Michael McDonald's song I Keep Forgettin.
> 
> I was just about to say goodbye to writing for klance when I found this half-written fic again. I had given up on writing it at the beginning of this year, but rereading through it I fell back in love with the story again! So I've been continuing it, and at the time of posting this, I am reasonably close enough to finishing that I fell confident in posting the first chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance jerked awake, his cramped bedroom swimming in front of him. Harsh blue light burned his eyes. Where was it coming from? He rolled over to his bedside table, where his phone was lit up, vibrating strongly. 

An unknown number was calling him. He checked the time. 3:42 am. 

As much as he wanted to dismiss the call and fall back into sleep, a small twist in the bottom of his gut wouldn’t let him. It could be important. Why else would they be calling at such a time?

He picked up. “Hello?” 

_ “Is this Lance McClain?” _ The woman on the other side of the line sounded breathless, relieved. 

“Yes,” he replied, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard. “What’s going on?”

_ “My name is Shay, and I’m calling from Rutherford Memorial in Phoenix. You’re listed as an emergency contact for one of our patients in the ICU, do you understand?” _

Lance suddenly felt very awake, sensitive to the brush of the blankets against his skin and the cool wall behind him. The woman’s voice was bouncing through his eardrums. “Yes, but-” His head was swimming, trying to think of who it could be. He had called his parents just last night, and they and the kids and his grandparents were all safe back in Cuba. Veronica was in D.C, as were Hunk and Pidge. Louis was on a ski trip to Canada. Who did he know in Phoenix? “I’m sorry, who is this about? I don’t think I know anyone in Phoenix.” 

_ “He’s not from here, we think he was travelling through. We found his ID in his wallet. Is the name Keith Kogane familiar to you?” _

It felt like Lance’s spine had just been filled with ice cold water. He hadn’t spoken to Keith in months. Not since they broke up. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that I’m the right person to call, surely Shiro-”

_ “We have already tried contacting Mr Shirogane but it appears his phone is out of range or turned off.”  _ The woman replied kindly.  _ “There is a mother named Kroila listed who is also unavailable. I’m sorry Mr McClain, but after you, there is no one else we can call.” _

Keith had never mentioned a mother. He had never talked much about his childhood past a brisk explanation that the foster care system had chewed him up and spat him out. Lance supposed one more lie to the list didn’t make it that much heavier. 

He didn’t know if he could bear to be face to face with Keith again, after everything that happened. Lance told himself that didn’t owe him anything, least of all dragging himself over to Phoenix and missing out on work for a broken arm or something.

_ “Mr McClain? I’m sorry to tell you that Mr Kogane was in a motorcycle crash, and his condition is serious.” _

All the air left Lance’s lungs. His heart skipped a beat, although later he would pretend it didn’t. He had cemented the cracks in his ribs with bitter resentment for Keith, and he knew it. But the thought of him on the verge of death  _ hurt,  _ like an iron hand around his heart.

He had no choice. In this moment, Keith needed him, even if he didn’t want him. Lance would go, do his part, get in contact with Shiro, and hopefully be able to hand over the responsibility before Keith woke up and they had to confront one another. 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’m in Los Angeles right now, but I can get there in five or six hours. What happened?”

_ “He was riding his motorcycle on the interstate and was hit by another vehicle. The driver of the car who hit him took off, but witnesses have reported the license plate.” _

He bit the inside of his cheek. He had been worrying about having to talk to Keith when he woke up, rather than worrying  _ if  _ he would wake up. “How bad is it?” 

He could hear the woman’s hesitation.  _ “There’s not too much more I can say over the phone, I’m afraid. I would just advise you to get here as quickly as you can while driving safely, okay?” _

Lance nodded, then realised the woman couldn’t see him. “Yeah, okay. Is there anything I need to bring with me?”

_ “Changes of clothes, toiletries. If you have any personal effects of Mr Kogane that could make him feel more at home in his stay here.”  _ She advised.  _ “When you arrive, come up to the front desk and say that Shay Balmera called you about a patient in the ICU.” _

“Okay, I’ll do that.” He suddenly felt awkward and panicked, like he was an actor pushed out on stage without hearing the script. “Thank you, Shay.”

_ “No problem. I’ll see you in a few hours, Mr McClain.” _

Lance hung up, sighing deeply. He looked up at his ceiling in the dim light. What was he getting himself into? What right did he have to be making medical decisions on Keith’s behalf, anyway? If - _ when- _ Keith woke up, wouldn’t he be furious with him?

But there was no one else. No one else Lance knew of, anyway. Keith had obviously been hiding things from him. Or maybe there was someone new, some devoted boyfriend who was more equipped than him to deal with this situation, someone Keith could trust, and Keith felt like they were  _ right for each other- _

Lance wished he could stop visiting the graveyard of his memories. 

* * *

**_then._ **

Yellow light filtered through the thin curtains from the streetlamps below, painting the room in a sickly fluorescent tint. The space heater had broken last week and his landlord still hadn’t gotten around to replacing it, so he had no other choice but to pile on the blankets as armour against the frigid air. He could hear a party in full swing two apartments over, the bright pop music swelling and falling. From the cramped bed, he could see the kitchen, sink full of dishes from dinner he was still yet to clean. 

By all means, it should’ve been an unhappy, aggravating moment. It was cold, the light was harsh, he had dishes to do, and the thumping music denied any semblance of peace. 

But at that moment, he had never felt so safe, happiness like a warm thing making home in his chest.

Keith dragged a kiss down the back of his neck, tightening his arms around Lance’s waist. “What’re you thinking about?” He murmured. 

Lance smiled at him over his shoulder. “How horrible this would be without you.” His head caught up with his words and he laughed. “Wow, that sounds so cheesy.”

“It does.” Keith agreed, thumb sliding over Lance’s navel. “But I know what you mean.” 

Lance turned around so that he was facing Keith, letting his gaze sink into Keith’s eyes. Tentatively, he reached up to tuck a strand of Keith’s hair behind his hair, caught between embarrassment of the clicheness of it all and pure contentment of their shared existence. Keith’s eyes fluttered closed and his lips curled up into a smile. 

Lance held his breath. He wanted to burn this moment into the inside of his eyelids, a memory he could look back on a decade into the future. 

A finger jabbed into his ribs, forcing the air back out of his lungs. “You’re a nerd,” Keith told him, smile now morphed into a smirk. 

Lance shrugged, curling closer to Keith’s warmth, burying his cold nose in Keith’s neck. Just as he was slipping into a languid state of half sleep, his phone started ringing. 

Groaning, he craned his neck to look over at the bedside table, seeing his phone screen flash with three red devil emojis. He sighed, reaching over to grab the offending object.

“Who is it?” Keith asked. 

“My boss,” Lance grumbled. “He’s probably wanting to see if I can come in.”

Keith’s hand caught his wrist before he could swipe to answer. “Well then don’t answer it.”

“Keith, I can’t just ignore my boss’ calls.” Lance whined. 

Keith shrugged, saccharine smirk back in place. “You don't have to ignore it…” The hand holding Lance’s wrist crept up, taking the ringing phone from him. “Maybe you just didn’t hear it, maybe it was in another room, maybe you were doing…” He paused for effect, licking a stripe up Lance’s neck, phone falling somewhere behind him. “More important things.”

Lance bit his lip, trying to make it seem like it was a harder decision than it really was. “One time couldn’t hurt.”

* * *

Lance’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he stared out into oncoming traffic. The pale winter sun had since risen, painting the landscape in bleak light. He had called in to work an hour ago, had explained his current predicament away as a cousin in the ICU, rather than an ex-boyfriend who he hadn’t talked to in months. His boss told him to take as much time as he needed, which Lance knew really meant no more than a week, with a piece already written up when he got back. 

He passed another road sign cheerfully informing him that he would be entering Phoenix much too soon. His guts felt like they were twisted in knots as he approached the tangle of buildings. He wasn’t ready to see Keith again, but if he was being honest, Keith had always been a magnetic field for him. It was inevitable that Lance got pulled in. He was just terrified what state he would find him in.

He pulled over and put the hospital address in his phone, feeling the tiredness itch at the edges of his vision. He was running on only a couple hours of sleep and the adrenaline had worn off hours ago. 

The streets of Phoenix were a blur as he passed by under the direction of the steely voice on his maps app. Before he knew it, Rutherford Memorial was looming up in front of him. He pulled into a car park and cut the engine, resting his head for a moment on the steering wheel. 

He was on the precipice of a complicated and heart-wrenching ordeal, with no option to walk away. He would have to see this thing through till the end. So he started compartmentalising. 

First, he would have to lift his head. Grab his things. Get out of the car. Then, he would walk into the reception and ask for Shay. He would answer her questions. He would make the best decisions he was capable of at the moment. That was all he could do. After that, he would reassess and look at his next steps. 

It wasn’t amazing, but it was a plan, and that was what he needed. So he did just that, shaky legs carrying himself into the building and up to the front desk. 

“I got a call from a nurse here called Shay about a patient in the ICU.” He explained. The lady behind the desk was already nodding and reaching for a pager. She had a kind face, one that made him sure that she had grandchildren and that she dealt with many tragedies coming through these doors. 

“She’s on her way, darling. You go take a seat over there.” She smiled at him, in a way that Lance knew was perfected. 

He did as he was told, sinking into the threadbare cushion. It wasn’t long before a younger nurse was rounding the corner and immediately made a beeline for him. “You’re Lance, right? It’s good to see you here.” He was given another smile then, and Lance could tell it was about to become a pattern. “I’m Shay, the on duty nurse assigned to Keith at the moment.”

Lance stood and nodded. “Is it bad?” He tentatively asked. 

“He’s hanging in there.” Shay’s tone was gentle and calm as she dodged the question. The twist in Lance’s guts only got tighter. “I can take you to his room now.”

Lance nodded. “Thanks,” He said, picking up his bag and following the woman down the hallway. 

As they walked, Shay explained the situation. “There’s no nice way to put it. Witnesses have said that he was struck from behind as the driver who hit him was trying to weave through traffic.” They arrived at a door, and Shay turned to level a look at him, her hand steady on the handle. “He was thrown off his bike, and suffered multiple broken bones, the biggest problem of which were his ribs, which punctured a lung.” She opened the door and went inside, Lance following her as he kept his gaze carefully directed away from the bed. “The emergency room staff were able to patch up his lung, but what we’re worried about now is brain damage. He was put in a drug induced coma to give his brain time to repair and hopefully we will see the swelling decrease. Do you understand everything I’ve told you?” 

Lance nodded. His fingers were trembling. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. So, it’s just recovery from now?” 

He felt Shay’s hesitation. “We hope so, but nothing is definite. There is a test that the trauma surgeon is wanting to do, but it comes with some risks that you would need to sign off on.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. Lance wondered if she had noticed the pointed way that he was examining the silent television hung in the corner. “I will come by with a briefing pack on the procedure and a consulting physician. We’ll give you some time to think it over, but if there is something wrong then Keith may not have much time, okay?” 

He nodded again, and he heard her leave the room. Finally, knowing that he couldn’t put it off any longer, he dragged his gaze over to the prone figure on the bed, hoping against hope that somehow Keith would jump up and this would all be some horrible practical joke. 

Lance would prefer that over his current situation as he took in Keith’s limp form. His stomach turned, and he forgot how to breathe. 

He was swathed in white -white sheets up to his armpits, white cast over his arm, white bandages wrapped around his head. It made the red scrapes and cuts over this face and hands and the purple bruises that littered his skin stand out more. Lance waited a few moments, transfixed by the strange stillness of his body. Keith was dynamic, strong in his gestures and words, not - _ this.  _

Without realising, Lance had travelled across the room to stand at Keith’s bedside, a palm over his ribs. He could feel the small and slow rise and fall of Keith’s chest. It was comforting, and Lance could feel his breaths come smoother. 

Slowly, he ran his hand up to Keith’s cheek, skimming around the mask over his mouth that was pushing air into his lungs. Lance remembered Keith’s skin being pale, but now it was taken on a grey pallor. Lance could almost imagine him melting away into the sheets, leaving nothing behind. The skin under his eyes was stained grey too, as if in his unconscious state he was getting no rest. 

Keith had never been all that good at getting rest. Lance wondered what kind of things kept him up at night now. 

It was none of his business. Keith had made that clear.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. He took his hand back as if burned, turning around to face Shay, who was followed by an older man with caramel skin. Shay passed him a stack of papers. “This is Dr Iqbal Theba, he’s consulting doctor for Keith’s surgeon, Dr Slav, who is..” She trailed off, as if trying to find the right words. “Not known for his bedside manner, but is an excellent surgeon.”

Lance nodded, put on a limp smile, and shook Dr Theba’s hand. “This is the procedure,” He started explaining. “Firstly, a contrast solution is injected into the bloodstream…” He continued talking, but his voice fuzzed out into static in Lance’s ears as the words on the page swam in front of him. What would Keith want? He didn’t know. Now was the time to focus. This decision could change the course of Keith’s life, and even though his stomach churned at the thought, he had to make it.

“Mr McClain? I hate to rush you, but…”

He nodded. “Are the risks serious?”

“For someone of his age and health?” The doctor blinked. “I don’t think so.”

Lance sighed. “And the alternative is to do nothing, what would happen then?”

Dr Theba shifted on his feet. “Well, it’s certainly a possibility that everything is fine and nothing will happen, however we are not confident in that. Dr Slav did some good work in the first emergency surgery, however we were working off only an ultrasound from the emergency room, so it is reasonably probable we missed something. This test would allow us to be confident.”

Lance breathed deep, knowing that he had to decide. He turned to Shay. “If you were in my position, what would you do?” He asked quietly.

Shay spluttered. “It’s not really my place to-”

“It’s okay, I just want to know from someone who is able to be objective.” He explained.

She didn’t have to think for long. “I would do it.”

Lance took a couple of seconds to look into her eyes. She was being honest, he decided. “Okay,” He said. “Let’s do it.”

Dr Theba smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “I will do my best to take care of him.” He assured him. 

Lance tried to return the smile. “Thank you.”

He signed on the dotted line, trying to feel a little less like a fraud.

* * *

**_then._ **

Lance watched the stingray as it weaved through the water, craning his neck as it swam over him, casting a shadow over his face. The dappled blue light washed over him as he gazed in awe at a shoal of tiny fish passing by. He placed a hand over the glass, cool against his fingertips as he marvelled at the aquarium scene. 

He snapped a photo of a pair of clownfish and sent it to the group chat he had with Hunk and Pidge, demanding a rewatch of Finding Nemo.

Looking further down the tunnel, he spotted Keith reading an information plaque about hammerhead sharks. Carefully, as quietly as he could, he snuck up behind his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him.

Keith feigned surprise and shock. “Oh no. An octopus has escaped. Whatever shall I do now?” He deadpanned, reaching behind him to tickle Lance’s sides.

Lance shrieked, twisting to escape Keith’s grasp, stumbling away. Keith spun around and chased him, grabbing him around the waist and easily lifting him off the ground. 

Lance giggled, shoving his hands against Keith’s face in an effort to be let go. Keith pushed him against the wall, propping him up so he could free one arm to retaliate-

A security officer coughed politely and gave them a pointed look. Keith put Lance back down. He straightened his shirt and nodded back at the security officer, who shook his head and turned away. 

Chuckling quietly at themselves, Lance opted for taking Keith’s hand in his own instead. “What made you think of going to the aquarium?” He asked. “It’s perfect.” 

Keith shrugged. “Whenever you get stressed about exams or anything you like to watch nature documentaries. I thought maybe you would like to see some of it in person.”

Lance grinned up at him. “Thank you, really. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Also, it’s crazy how much there’s down there that we don’t know about.”

Keith chuckled and pressed a kiss to Lance’s cheek. “Happy Birthday, Lance.”

Just as Lance was about to reply, he caught sight of a clownfish again, alone this time. He followed it as it made its valiant journey through the coral, tugging Keith by the hand behind him. “Woah, it  _ is _ just like Finding Nemo.”

A shark swam overhead, and Lance watched the little clownfish scramble to hide away inside a coral formation. Soon, it was off again, and when he tried to follow, Keith wouldn’t move. Lance pulled on his hand as he watched the clownfish get further away. “Come on, we’ll lose him.” He whined. 

Keith didn’t budge. Frowning, Lance turned to look at him. Keith’s eyes were wide and on him, his mouth was slightly open. Worried, Lance stepped towards him, resting his free hand on Keith’s shoulder, shaking it slightly. “Keith? Is something wrong?” 

Keith’s gaze hadn’t left his. “No,” He said carefully.

“Then what is it?” He asked.

A smile broke out over Keith’s face. “I think I’m in love with you.” He said quietly, sincerely. Like he had just realised at that moment.

Lance let out a choked laugh and pulled Keith in for a hug. “It took you long enough.” He joked, pressing a kiss against the corner of Keith’s smile. “I think I’m in love with you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing he saw was a black t-shirt. He ran his fingers over it, the soft cotton, slightly threadbare - Keith wore all his clothes to death, to get the maximum use out of everything. He picked up the old shirt, bringing it up to his face. Under the burnt asphalt of the crash he could still discern the fresh linen scent of the washing detergent Keith always bought because it was the cheapest. Lance remembered the first time he had washed his own clothes at Keith’s place, the way that scent seeped into the fabric had comforted him when Keith wasn’t around. 
> 
> He tried to ignore the image that came to mind of a jacket in the back of his closet that he hadn’t washed since the breakup. Maybe their relationship to Keith had been like his shirts, something he had worn out until it had served its purpose. Maybe that was why he had decided to throw it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! I hope everyone is having a great holiday season and are ending the year well!  
> Enjoy!

Keith was wheeled back into the room after an hour, not looking particularly better, but not worse either. As Shay began to hook Keith back up to the machines, Dr Theba approached Lance, a grim expression on his face. 

“There were no complications with the procedure, but we were right to be worried,” He told him, opening a folder to show Lance what he guessed were the test results. “The Contrast Radiography revealed some worrying internal bleeding on the brain and in the chest cavity from shards of broken rib. Keith’s surgeon and I are calling for another surgery as soon as an OR is free. Do you understand?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, what kind of risks can we expect?” His voice sounded alien to him, too mature, like he had aged five years without noticing.

“The complex component of this surgery is that there are multiple areas to work on.” Dr Theba explained, Shay coming to stand with them. “It is too dangerous to have simultaneous incisions, so an order of priority will have to be established…” The doctor went on to explain how they planned to stop the bleeding and relieve the pressure on Keith’s brain. Lance found himself focusing on the steady beep that broadcasted Keith’s heartbeat.

“...Mr McClain? Do you consent?” 

The decision was easier to make, this time. “Yeah,” He said. Shay handed him a pen while Dr Theba flipped to the right page, presenting the dotted line to him helpfully. Lance signed again.

“I’ll start with the surgery preparations.” Dr Theba said, patting his shoulder and leaving the room. Shay lingered. 

“How are you doing, Lance?” She asked carefully.

He shrugged. “I’m coping, I think.” 

She gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes that’s the best we can do.” She rubbed his arm. “It’s hard, seeing the ones you love most in this position.” 

His heart sank. She thought that he was Keith’s boyfriend. He thought about explaining that they weren’t like that anymore, or that they were only friends, but he just didn’t have the energy. He felt as if the weight of his bones were sinking into the ground.

“Yeah.” He said instead.

Shay gave him a tight smile and checked her pager. Lance was sure she had many patients to attend to. “If you need anything, let me know.” 

“I will,” He assured her, and watched her leave the room.

Lance stared at Keith’s prone form on the bed. His body was held up by a myriad of tubes and wires, machines forcing his lungs to breathe and flooding his body with nutrients he couldn’t eat. It was as if Keith had shrunk and was half the size that Lance remembered him being. He wanted to be able to help in some way, to seal the wounds closed and hold the bones in place until they healed. But Lance knew there was nothing he could do. He wondered what this helpless and weak desperation meant.

_ “...I think I’m in love with you.” _

Lance ripped his gaze from the hospital bed, opting to stare out the window at the carpark below. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. He was playing pretend, acting like he had a right to be here, supporting Keith in this way. Like someone who had an actual claim to a close relationship. Lance knew that person was Shiro.

He needed to get in contact with him, so he could hand off this whole horrible situation to his more capable hands. Then, Lance could go back to his regular life and start trying to forget how thin and pale Keith looked on this hospital bed. Keith didn’t even have to know that he had been here. Everybody wins.

Lance dialled Pidge’s number. 

_ “Yo Lance, what’s up? Shouldn’t you be working right now?” _

Lance bit his lip. “Nah, I’ve had to take a couple days off. I’ve got a bit of a… situation.”

_ “What kind of situation?”  _ Pidge sounded worried.  _ “Are you alright?” _

“I’m okay.” He sighed. “But I’m currently sitting in a hospital in Phoenix because Keith was crashed into on the interstate. I was listed as an emergency contact.”

_ “Jesus Christ, that’s horrible.”  _ Pidge paused.  _ “Do you know if he’s okay?” _

Lance sighed. “I’m not sure. I signed off on a test that showed he needs another complicated surgery. He’ll go in soon, but I don’t know how long it will take. They tried to contact Shiro first but they couldn’t reach him, so I’ve had to make some medical decisions on Keith’s behalf. I just-” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing back to Keith’s bed. “I don’t know if any of the choices I’m making are the right ones. Shiro would know.”

_ “Oh Lance… I’m sorry you have to deal with this, but I’m sure that you’re doing fine. It’s a crazy situation to be in.”  _ She comforted him. “ _ Shiro and Matt are in a squadron together, doing relief work over in The Philippines. I can call their satellite phone from dad’s office but it will still be a couple of days before he can get to you.”  _

“That’s okay. Thank you, Pidge. Really.” He realised that he was thumbing over the calluses on his fingers, an action he did when he was anxious. He trapped his hand between his knees. “Did Keith ever talk to you about his mother?”

There was a long pause on the other side of the line.  _ “He did. But he didn’t find out until after you left. I can’t tell you much more. You would have to hear from Keith himself.” _

Lance nodded. “Okay.” Even to him, his voice sounded small. “I should probably go. I think they might be coming to get him soon.”

_ “Okay, I’ll call you in a bit to check in with you and give you an update on the Shiro situation.” _

“Okay.” He agreed. “Tell Hunk I said hi.”

_ “I will,”  _ Pidge promised.  _ “We miss you.” _

He smiled wanly. “I miss you too.”

_ “And Lance?” _

“Yeah?”

_ “You’ve got this.” _

He smiled, the most true and genuine one he had had for weeks. “Thanks, Pidge.”

_ “Anytime.” _

* * *

**_then._ **

Hunk let out a high pitched giggle and stumbled back into their table, hiccuping as he tried to save a martini glass from toppling off. In a comic sequence of fumbles, he managed to get a hold of it before it smashed over the floor. He thrust the glass up high in the air, a grin splitting his face. “Did you see that? I’m practically a  _ ninja. _ ” He said loudly, Lance and Pidge hooting in laughter.

He had to be loud, and even then Lance could only just hear him. The music was throbbed in his ears. Lance could swear his bones were vibrating at the intensity of it. They were all squeezed into a circular booth made for much fewer people, Lance half sitting in Keith’s lap, leaning against Pidge’s shoulder. 

Their table was made of reflective polished silver and was littered with an increasing number of glasses. Finals season had officially ended so the popular student club, The Castle of Lions, had put on a two for one drinks deal. And they were definitely taking advantage of it.

Pidge was still laughing, clutching her sides, the movement dislodging Lance dangerously. “Oh it hurts, it hurts  _ so much. _ ” She wheezed. 

Shiro had his head in his hands. “I thought my days of babysitting were over.” He remarked dryly.

Lance beamed at him. “You love ush really.” He slurred. “You’re the besht dad evah. Well, maybe apart from my  _ real _ dad, I can’t do my pops dirty like that-”

“All right, I think it’s time I get us all a round of water.” Keith laughed, patting Lance’s knee. Reluctantly, Lance shifted his legs so Keith could shuffle free from the table. 

“Ah, what a knight in shining armour.” Lance mused.

Pidge giggled beside him. “He’s a keeper, Lance.”

Lance didn’t miss the bloom of red start to take over Keith’s cheeks at that comment, but he couldn’t think of something to say before Keith was already slipping into the crowd. 

He was quickly pulled away from his thoughts by Pidge jumping into a heated rant about Professor Sendak, otherwise known as the worst teacher possible. 

“...and Allura’s just standing there, while he goes off about the degradation of  _ respect in the classroom,  _ the dick, for over five minutes. For pointing out a spelling mistake in the exam.” She fumed, waving her glass around to punctuate her point and losing all her drink in the process.

Shiro sighed blissfully. “I’ve never been happier to be out of university.”

“Damn right!” Pidge exclaimed, raising her nearly empty glass in a mock salute. “Our TA was so done she just walked out and he didn’t even notice. I can’t wait until this god-pissing semester is over.”

Hunk chuckled. “And that’s why you keep your degree nice and tidy in one department.”

“Oh come on!” Pidge scoffed. “That’s such a dry self-serving engineering thing to say.” Lance caught sight of Keith, turning away from the bar, a pile of bottles of water under an arm.

“Is it self-serving if it’s true?” Hunk asked.

“Guys, come on…” The rest of the conversation faded into the background as Lance’s eyes followed Keith and he tried to disentangle himself from another man draped all over him. 

Something evil and slimy found a home in his gut. Without saying a word, he stood up, dodging Pidge’s wild gestures as he shimmied out of the booth. He vaguely heard Shiro ask him something, but he was already on his way through the crowd. 

Keith only had one hand free, and it was pushing against the guy’s shoulder -or was it just resting there? Lance couldn’t tell. He swallowed, trying to push the ugly emotions back down. 

He was getting closer, approaching Keith’s back. The guy all over him had cropped-close blonde hair and warm caramel skin, with a face that could pay his bills with ease. Lance realised he was biting the inside of his cheek. 

“...already have a boyfriend, thanks.” He heard Keith say.

Lance didn’t get to feel a surge of pride at that before the other guy was cutting over his thoughts. “And what of it? Lots of guys have their boring boyfriends at home but let themselves have something actually fucking exciting on the side.” He leaned further into Keith’s neck, whispered something in his ear, lining his body up against Keith’s. 

Lance took a step forward, without an idea in mind about what to do, but Keith spoke up before he had to do anything. “Look, man, I’ve tried to be nice, but I’m really not interested.” He pushed the blond off and stepped away quickly. “You don’t need to offer me a good time, because I don’t want it. I’ve never been happier. Have a nice night.”

He turned around, almost running into Lance. Surprise flittered briefly across his face, but then he was taking Lance’s hand, kissing him with a relief like coming home. 

All those ugly, slimy feelings were eradicated in an instant. Lance only felt warm.

* * *

Lance slumped further into the armchair beside the gaping space where the hospital bed used to be. The hours kept dragging on, time crawling impossibly slowly. His laptop was open, resting on his knees. A new document was open, but every time he tried starting some think piece or social commentary it seemed off, and he ended up deleting the whole thing again and again. It was like his writing ability had shrivelled up and died. 

At least it seemed like he still had plenty of time to come up with something his boss would salivate over. He would be spending a couple more days in Phoenix. He pulled up a new tab, searching for motels in the area. 

Pidge had called him back an hour or so ago. She told that she had spoken with Shiro, and he was coming back on the next returning flight. But even then, once he landed back on US soil at one of the western bases he would still have to make the journey to Phoenix. Lance would be sticking around for a while yet. 

It didn’t make it any better that word had gotten around about the poor boyfriend waiting all alone at the bedside of his beloved who had been tragically hit on the highway. He had nurses seemingly casually stopping by to refresh the water jug, or offer him some blankets, or give him little cakes. They were kind and smiled warmly and it made Lance feel sick to his stomach. 

What didn’t make it any better though, was the end of his conversation with Pidge. She told him that Shiro had asked her to pass on a message. 

_ “He said to thank you, and that you were a good person for doing this, after everything that happened.” _

Lance didn’t know what to make of that. He was expecting Shiro, as Keith’s closest friend, to have taken on the same attitude towards him as Keith had done -complete silence and indifference. 

Then again, Shiro was one of the most kind-hearted people that Lance knew. Or had known, anyway. It meant that when it came to hand over the hospitalised Keith to him it shouldn’t be too awkward, which Lance was grateful for. 

There was a knock at the door. Lance straightened up, closing his laptop on placing it on the table. “Come in,” He called out.

Two uniformed police officers entered the room. “Mr McClain?” The older asked. 

Lance stood up. “That would be me.” He said, walking around to shake their hands. “Is there something I need to do for you? A signature, or…” He trailed off.

“Oh son, don’t worry.” The older officer replied kindly. “I’m Officer Fields, and this is Officer Burtman. We’re here to tell you that the man who hit Mr Kogane was picked up trying to leave the state. He has confessed and will be charged for the hit and run.”

Lance nodded. “That’s good to hear. Thank you for coming to tell me.” It was good news. The man who had put Keith in this hospital bed would have to pay for it. That it meant something, even if the hurricane that had thrown Lance’s life around was only a breeze to others.

“There’s something else,” Burtman spoke up. “We have some of Mr Kogane’s possessions from the crash that we can now hand over to you.” He offered Lance a dirty duffel bag that he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Lance bit the inside of his cheek. “Oh, right. I hadn’t even thought of it.”

“That’s understandable.” Fields said. “Especially for someone in such a… strained position as yourself.”

“The bag was in his bike, which could not be salvaged, however the items inside aren’t too badly damaged.” Burtman smiled, reaching into his pocket to offer a wrinkled card. “If you have any concerns or questions about the case and charges, don’t hesitate to call.”

Lance offered a smile in response. He doubted he would ever call them back, but he’d give it to Shiro. “Thanks, officers.”

Fields patted his shoulder. “Stay strong, son.”

And then they were gone, leaving Lance alone in the room, Keith’s duffel bag hanging from his hands. 

Slowly, he set it down on the armchair, considering it. It was probably just clothes and toiletries. Things that would come in handy when Keith was ready to be discharged. He peeled back the zipper, only able to open it halfway before running into a section of track that must have been crunched in the crash.

The first thing he saw was a black t-shirt. He ran his fingers over it, the soft cotton, slightly threadbare - Keith wore all his clothes to death, to get the maximum use out of everything. He picked up the old shirt, bringing it up to his face. Under the burnt asphalt of the crash he could still discern the fresh linen scent of the washing detergent Keith always bought because it was the cheapest. Lance remembered the first time he had washed his own clothes at Keith’s place, the way that scent seeped into the fabric had comforted him when Keith wasn’t around. 

He tried to ignore the image that came to mind of a jacket in the back of his closet that he hadn’t washed since the breakup. Maybe their relationship to Keith had been like his shirts, something he had worn out until it had served its purpose. Maybe that was why he had decided to throw it away.

He stuffed the shirt back into the bag, hearing a crinkling of paper as he did so. Curiosity overcame him, and he tugged the paper free from the bottom of the bag. 

It was a letter of recommendation from the DA’s office back in Washington. 

_ It is with my utmost sincerity that I am writing to commend Mr Kogane in his private investigation work done for our office in these past years… _

Lance blinked, returning to the top of the page again to make sure he’d read it right. Keith had loved his job, so he couldn’t imagine him quitting, and he was too good at it to be fired. So why… 

A hot flash of guilt burnt through his body. This was private, and Lance didn’t have the right to Keith’s privacy anymore. Determined, he placed the letter back in the bag, zipped it closed, and slid it under the cabinet. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.

He went back to his armchair, curling up and pulling up his laptop again. Sighing, he browsed through pages of motels in the area, eventually settling for a reasonable enough looking room nearby. Try as he might, the letter still haunted his thoughts. It just didn’t make any sense to him.

He booked the room, before idly checking his emails (finding nothing of importance) and cancelling his subscription to an audiobook website before his free trial ran out. Having exhausted his list of menial tasks to keep him busy, he turned on the television. It was stuck on a channel that was only playing some overstrung tragedy, filled with tearful confessions and filthy double-crosses. 

He let himself fall into figuring out which characters were which, their relationships, their ambitions. His brain was all too eager to let his worries simmer in the background as the episodes slid by, and all too soon the sky had grown dark outside. 

A housewife had just been caught cheating with the pool boy when the door opened, Shay and another nurse helping Dr Theba wheel the bed with Keith on it back into the room. 

Lance stood up. “How did it go?” He asked nervously, eyeing Keith’s limp form, still looking very strained and pale but with the new addition of a new type of thick bandage wrapped around his head. 

With a start, Lance realised that they had shaved his head. Of course they had, for the surgery. But the absence still shook him, after all the time he had spent teasing Keith about his outdated hairstyle. 

Dr Theba smiled. “All things considered, very well. We were able to stop the internal bleeding both in the chest cavity and the brain. The pressure was greatly relieved but there will still be a while before we feel comfortable taking him out of the coma.”

Lance nodded along. “How long do you think?” The ugly part of him hoped it wouldn’t be before Shiro could get there. 

Dr Theba shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Head wounds are tricky; it could take a couple of days or even weeks. We are considering administering a new drug course that has been shown to help decrease the swelling of the brain…” Lance blinked the tired ache from the corner of his eyes, Dr Theba’s voice fading out for a second. “-affects, and as it is still fresh out of an experimental basis we can only go ahead with your consent.”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t see why not, if you think it would help.”

Dr Theba nodded at him, handing over yet another form for Lance to sign. “We will wait for Keith’s body to settle after such a long surgery and we will start the course sometime during the night, then.” He took the clipboard back. “As for the length of his recovery, we will have a more clear picture once we monitor him for a few days.”

A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “That means that nothing more is going to be happening tonight,” Shay said, coming around to face him. “You should check into a motel now so you can get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

Lance nodded, smile thin. “Yeah, okay.”

It didn’t take him long to gather his things and soon he found himself standing in the doorway, chancing a glance back to the man he had once loved so much. 

Like any disease, traces still remain even after months of healing. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much. 

He told himself that he wouldn’t relapse, refusing to let his eyes wander to the duffel bag under the cabinet. 

He left the hospital like a man sleepwalking, driving to the motel and checking in passing by in a blur. He set his bag on the table, and only had to energy to toe of his shoes and wriggle out of his jeans before collapsing onto the bed. 

It was a nice big double bed. He slept on the edge of it.

He hated that even now, he couldn’t help but leave space for someone who wasn’t coming back.

* * *

**_then._ **

The door clicked softly, and Lance instantly knew it was Keith. He took care with these things. 

“How was work?” He called out, his eyes not leaving his laptop screen.

“Long,” Keith replied from the entryway over the familiar sound of dumping his keys into the cup on the bookcase by the door. “But in the end the good guys won, so it turned out to be a good one.”

Lance smiled. “That’s great, babe.” His fingers kept rapping at the keyboard. “Was it the one with the rich parents paying off police officers to cover up all the shit their son was doing?”

“Yeah, that one.” Lance heard Keith as he walked further into their apartment, leaving his jacket next to Lance’s on the couch. Their apartment. Even in his head, it sounded good. “It’s nice to see justice come around. What are you doing? I thought all your assignments and exams were done for the semester.”

“They are,” Lance sighed, feeling Keith’s presence at his back as he read what he was working on. “This is an article for the University Press. I need it to be perfect, so I can make front page, so I have something to show for when I apply for internships,-” He ran out of breath, and Keith was quick to jump in. 

“So you can land a job at one of the best papers in the country, work your way to the top, and become one of the biggest names in journalism, I know.” Keith chuckled, placing a kiss to the spot where Lance’s neck met his collarbone. “Smash it out, I’m sure it’ll turn out great. You hungry?”

Lance felt warm. “Nah I’m good,” He replied automatically. He took a pause, long enough to realize he was starving. “Actually-”

“I’m on it.” Keith smoothed a hand through his hair, and then he was off to the kitchen, the clattering of pans and utensils fading into the background.

He felt good about how his piece was coming along, but he didn’t want to get too optimistic too quickly. Expositions on the stress self-supporting students had to go through working on top of their study to make ends meet had been done before. But he wanted to write about the people, not the statistics. He wanted people to care like he did. 

Keith plopped down next to him, the heavenly smell of onions, egg, rice and tomato making Lance’s mouth water. It was enough for his fingers to still and for him to turn to his boyfriend with a moan. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” He stated seriously.

“I know,” Keith grinned, passing a fork to Lance. “Your mom taught me over Skype the other day. She was worried about you overworking yourself during exams, and I promised that I would take care of you.” He poked Lance’s nose. “Little did we know that the real trouble would be this article.”

Lance scoffed. “Oh come on, I’m-”

“Do you know how long you were sitting here?” Keith asked, voice level. 

“I don’t know, a couple of hours?” Lance thought for a moment. “Only since lunch.” 

Keith shook his head. “Lance, it’s nine-thirty.”

Lance couldn’t think of a reply. The silence stretched on. 

Keith was the one to break it. “How about we finish eating and head to bed for an early night, hmm?” He pointedly heaped up his fork with rice, raising it to his lips. “Then we can be ready and rested for tomorrow.”

Lance was already shaking his head. “I have this article to finish.”

Keith wagged his finger at him while he chewed his food. “I always buy a copy of the University Press when you have an article in it, so I know that it doesn’t come out until Monday morning.” He smiled at Lance smugly. “You have the whole night of sleeping for the perfect line to dawn upon you in a dream, or however this writing thing works.”

Lance couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Okay,” He said, closing his laptop. “Okay, let’s go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens... Please tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait. Was Keith moving? Lance thought that the doctors had told him that he wouldn’t be rising out of a coma anytime soon.  
> But there Keith was, stirring from sleep. Or- not stirring. He was shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! 
> 
> I had some trouble in splitting this chapter and the next, so this chapter is the smallest so far, but the next one is a doozy, I promise. Also, there's a lot going on in this chapter so I think it seems longer than it is.
> 
> Trigger warnings for seizures and a moment resembling a panic attack. Click to the endnotes for an explanation where to stop reading and a basic description of what happens if this is something that bothers you.

When Lance arrived at the hospital the next morning, Shay greeted him with a smile at the entrance to the ICU ward. “Hi Lance, how are you doing?” She asked, the corners of her eyes creasing. 

“Well, I think, for the situation.” He replied. “Has anything happened overnight?”

Her smile grew wider. “Nothing of concern. In fact, his vitals are improving.”

“That’s good to hear.” He didn’t need to act. “So things are looking better than yesterday?” 

Shay nodded. “I would say so, yes. But of course, I’m not a doctor.”

Lance smiled back at her. “I don’t mind, I trust your judgement.”

The arrived at the now familiar door to Keith’s room, and Shay tapped her fingers against her clipboard. “Well, here we are. I’ve already done Keith’s check-up for the morning, so I’ll give you the rundown.”

They entered, and Lance was unable to stop his gaze immediately jumping to Keith, looking for the signs of improvement. Maybe his skin looked a little less grey, maybe the skin under his eyes was a little lighter and maybe Keith seemed a little more solid, but Lance couldn’t really tell. He nodded at Shay. “Go ahead.”

“Well, both the lesions from the crash and the incisions from surgery appear to be healing well, so we are hoping to keep scarring to a minimum.” She stated, a finger running down her list. “Keith’s doctors are confident that the internal stitches have held up, so it appears we won’t have any more issues with internal bleeding. As such, we felt confident to remove the respirator about an hour ago, and Keith’s lungs have been performing just fine with a little additional oxygen. There has been a small decrease in the swelling on the brain, and the new drug course was started this morning, but we don’t expect to be able to see any significant results in the next twelve hours. Do you have any more questions about how the recovery is going?”

Lance let himself think for a moment, but his mind came up blank. “Not for the moment, no. Thanks, Shay.”

She beamed. “Anytime. I have some more patients to check up on, but I’ll be back once I’ve done my rounds, okay?”

Lance nodded. “All right. I’ll see you later.”

The door clicked softly behind her. He settled down into his chair by the bedside, pulling out his laptop and resting it on his knees. Once again, the blank white page tormented him. He didn’t know how long he sat there, hardly getting through half a sentence before aborting it, the repetitive beeping of the machines like a drum in his mind. He couldn’t settle on a topic; every idea he had seemed overdone or disingenuous or just plain boring. 

He switched on the TV again, finding it still very much stuck on the same channel, still playing the same daytime soap. He tried to let himself sink into the characters like he had the day before, but his mind was too active. His skin itched, willing him to move, to do something. His fingers drummed against the armrest.

He found himself watching the tiny movement of Keith’s chest as he breathed. After Shay’s positive report, he felt like he could see some signs of improvement. The scrapes on his arms maybe looked a little less angry, and he could swear he could see a faint healthy blush to his cheeks.

Or maybe he was just seeing things because he wanted them to be true. He turned his gaze to his feet, wiggling his toes to see the movement through his shoes. 

This was getting him nowhere. He dug into his bag, fishing out his wallet. Resolving that a walk to the vending machine would do him some good, he stood up, making for the door. He shot back another look at Keith over his shoulder, still looking sickly and broken and-

Wait. Was Keith moving? Lance thought that the doctors had told him that he wouldn’t be rising out of a coma anytime soon.

But there Keith was, stirring from sleep. Or- not stirring. He was shaking.

It had been softer before, like a shiver. But it grew more violent. The steady drumbeat of the machines had changed their rhythm. 

Lance was back across the room before he could think to do so. He hit the emergency call, his unsteady hands taking hold of Keith’s shoulders. “Keith?” He asked, then louder; “Keith?!”

Keith’s body started bucking violently against the bed. Like he wanted to break free of Lance’s hold.

_ Keith ripped his hand from Lance’s grasp and walked away.  _

The wailing of the machines seemed distant, or as if he was underwater. Keith wouldn’t stop seizing. The IV line had been ripped out, leaving a thin trail of blood. The bandages were in disarray. Everything was white or red or grey.

_ Lance stared at his back, waiting for him to turn around.  _

He felt the vibration of the incoming footsteps rather than hearing them. There were hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from Keith. A swarm of doctors and nurses came upon Keith until Lance could barely see him anymore. There was yelling, Lance could see their mouths open and close, wide and fast, fingers pointing this way and that. He was pulled out of the room, placed in a chair outside. Someone was telling him to breathe. What had just happened? 

_ But Keith didn’t even flinch. _

* * *

**_then._ **

Lance stepped out the doors of the student library and groaned. An absolute deluge of rain was pelting down, so thick that he couldn’t even see the lecture theatres on the other side of the square. A wind that had definitely not been present mere hours ago howled in his ears. 

It was just his luck that he was wearing just a thin t-shirt and jeans, expecting sunnier weather. Resolving himself for a miserable walk home, he tucked his books under his shirt for the little good that would do, and stepped out into the rain. 

Hunched over, the cold and unrelenting droplets stung the back of his neck. His fingers were white and stiff, clutching at his sides. He kept his gaze fixed on his soaked sneakers, triumphing in every step he took, one after another, getting closer to home each time. 

Yellow headlights washed over him as a car pulled to the side of the road, honking at him. Surprised, he whirled around, blinking back the rain as he tried to look inside the car. 

He stepped closer, the plain old black car ringing in his memory faintly. It suddenly hit him. It was Shiro’s.

Keith’s head popped out the driver’s side door. “What are you, crazy? Get in!” He yelled at him. 

Lance grinned, practically diving for the car door and crawling into the passenger’s seat. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re my boyfriend or my guardian angel.” He joked. 

Keith shrugged, taking his damp books from him, placing them on the back seat. “I can be both.” He stated, matter of fact. “Anyway, we take care of each other, don’t we? Someday I’ll be caught out in the rain and,-” He paused, pressing a warm kiss to Lance’s cold cheek. “-it will be you that saves me.”

* * *

Lance stood outside of the room. He wasn’t allowed to go back in, not yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. There was a lump in his throat, one he couldn’t swallow down or cough up. 

He looked through the glass again, but Keith hadn’t changed, almost dissolved into the bed, a grey, broken shadow of the man that Lance had once loved. 

They had intubated him again, and the plastic mask dominated his face. The doctors weren’t sure what kind of effect this seizure would have on Keith’s recovery. 

It had been the new drugs that had done it, they had told him. The drugs that Lance had signed off on with hardly a second thought. He had been careless with Keith’s health and now this had happened.

It was his fault. Keith could have died, and he would have been responsible. 

The thought made him absolutely sick to his stomach. A tight headache pounded behind his eyes. The nurses kept dropping off food and water to him but he couldn’t bring himself to eat it. The stark white walls seemed to bleed the colour out of everything, and Lance was left seeing in shades of grey. 

He couldn’t wait for Shiro to get here. Shiro would know what to do. Shiro would have done the right thing in the first place. 

Dr Theba had assured him that the drugs were out of Keith’s system, and so no more harm would be coming to him from that front. But that didn’t mean that Lance wouldn’t mess up the next decision he made for Keith, too. 

It seemed to him that everything he touched crumbled to dust sooner or later. It wasn’t enough for him to destroy their relationship, but now he was putting Keith’s life in danger as well. 

His phone buzzed from his pants pocket. Reluctantly, he pulled it out, expecting to see his boss’ contact. Instead, it was Hunk’s name that flashed across the screen.

He could never decline on his best friend. He picked up the call. “Hey, Hunk, what’s up my man?” He answered, trying to sound chipper. He didn’t want Hunk to worry. 

_ “Oh no, what’s gone wrong?” _ Hunk asked immediately.  _ “Has something happened to Keith?” _

Lance blinked. “How did you-”

_ “Lance, we’ve been friends for over 15 years. I can tell when something’s gone wrong and you’re trying to play it off. What happened?” _

Lance sighed. Hunk was too good at this. “I messed up Hunk.” An ugly sound fell out his throat. “I signed off on some drugs and they gave Keith a seizure. The doctors aren’t sure about what that could mean for him in the future and it’s all my-”

_ “Lance, if you try and tell me this is your fault I will get in my car right now and drive over there to knock some sense into you. You had no way of knowing that this would happen.” _

“But I did, Hunk.” Lance shook his head, even though Hunk couldn’t see it. “I appreciate that you’re trying to get me to feel better, but the doctors were talking to me about the possible side effects and I wasn’t paying enough attention. I should’ve been more serious, asked more questions.”

There was a beat of silence from the other end of the line.  _ “Lance, I’m not speaking here as only your friend, but also as a person with common sense.”  _ Lance heard shuffling from the other side, like Hunk was pacing.  _ “You are all by yourself in an unfamiliar place, trying to do your best for someone that you have a very complicated emotional relationship with. You are not a doctor, and you are exhausted. You have put your entire life on hold to deal with this terrible situation. You can only accomplish that which is within your limits.”  _ Hunk took a deep breath. _ “This is not your fault. What has happened to Keith is horrible, and right now he needs you to have a clear head and keep doing your best, okay?” _

Lance took a moment to feel the air filling and escaping his lungs. Hunk hadn’t left any wiggle room for his self-doubts. Lance hadn’t known how much he had needed to hear his voice. Hunk was the blue sky peeking through storm clouds. “Okay.” He said finally, quietly. “You’re right, Hunk. Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

_ “Well, I don’t know what I’d do either. We take care of each other, yeah?” _

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, spotting Shay approaching him from the end of the corridor. “Okay, the nurse is coming up to me now. I should go.”

_ “Okay, as long as you promise to call me back later, okay?” _

“I will, I promise.” Lance cleared his throat, realising that the cloud that had hung over his head had dissipated. 

_ “You’ve got this! We love you!” _

Lance ended the call, turning to face Shay, standing beside him. “I’ve just heard from the doctors, and you’re good to head back inside the room now.” She told him gently.

He nodded. “Okay. Have you heard anything more?”

She shook her head. “No, sorry. They haven’t come up with a conclusive expectation yet.”

Lance thought back to the waving clipboards and pacing footsteps that had filled the last couple of hours. “That’s okay.”

When they entered, Lance could feel that same apprehension sitting in his stomach, threatening to crawl up with throat. But he forced it down. Keith didn’t need him to wallow in self pity, he needed him to have a level head. 

Keith lay perfectly still, with an uneasy pallor to his skin, and now more covered in bandages and wires than ever. Lance slid into his chair at the bedside, and for the first time that he had been there, he took Keith’s hand in his own. It was a bit cold, but Lance was able to find Keith’s pulse underneath his fingertips. It was comforting.

He let himself trace his gaze over all the little scars with all their little stories that Keith told him. He remembered Keith telling him about craft knives and the sharp edges of motorcycle engines under the blankets in the small hours of the night. He thought about all the time that had passed since then, and wondered how different they were now to the people in that memory.

Maybe the biggest difference was that past Lance wanted to fall in love, while right now he hoped that he would fall out of it already. Because as much as Lance wanted to focus on the pain and aching betrayal, his heart couldn’t forget how to love Keith.

Lance let himself sit there for who knows how long, stewing in a kind of peaceful melancholy, letting Keith’s hand war ijm in his own. 

When the doctors came back to him with hardly any answers but many options, he was ready. He focused and listened, had them explain his doubts and weighed up what could only be the best option. This wasn’t about him, and his personal doubts about his competency. This was about Keith getting his best shot at recovery. 

Feeling settled in himself, he let himself take the time to brush the hair off Keith’s face before pulling out his laptop again. He knew exactly what he wanted to write. 

Like a thunderstorm after drought, the words poured out of him and onto the screen. He wasn’t even half-way finished yet, but he knew it was going to be one of his best articles yet.

* * *

**_then._ **

With shaky hands, Lance stuffed the letter back into its envelope. The white fluorescent light overhead brought out the starkness of the rich creamy paper. 

_ Congratulations, Mr McClain.  _ The words wouldn’t stop bouncing around his head. Congratulations were meant to be for happy times, but Lance didn’t know what he felt. Los Angeles was very far away. 

At least he still had a couple weeks to decide. He didn’t have to go around flipping his life on it’s side just yet. He looked into the bathroom mirror. His skin suddenly looked dry, his eyes sunken. He breathed in through his nose, letting the air out through his mouth. He could do this. 

“Come on, Lance!” Keith’s playful voice travelled through the door easily. “I have a hole in my stomach the size of cheap Chinese food.” 

Lance coughed out a laugh. “Your stomach can wait a minute!” He called back, sinking to his knees on the cold tiled floor.

He opened the cabinet under the sink and carefully moved the old cough syrup and throat lozenges to the side, slipping the letter behind them. He covered the spot back up again, placing a roll of bandages in front for extra measure. Keith never got sick.

He closed the cabinet again, slowly, so as not to make a sound. He stood up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. 

When he opened the door, it was to a grinning Keith leaning against the frame. “I’m thinking orange chicken.” He said, tapping his stomach.

Lance smiled, leaning into Keith’s space to press a kiss to his cheek. “That’s a good choice, but you’ll have to let me steal some.” He teased. 

Keith turned his head, chasing after Lance’s lips. “Not a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To miss the seizure scene, stop reading at "This was getting him nowhere. He dug into his bag, fishing out his wallet." Keith has a seizure in reaction to the new drug course and Lance is put into a state of panic at the sight and is removed from the room so the doctors can work.
> 
> Can you figure out why Keith broke up with Lance yet? Let me know your theories!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy footsteps rang down the corridor, much louder than the almost imperceptible sound the nurses and doctors made. Lance turned around to see who it was, and almost dropped the coffee at who he saw.  
> A tall, strong figure, dressed in army fatigues walked down the centre of the corridor like the walls were frames of a painting. He had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a pair of tired eyes looked back at Lance with worry. Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! We are nearing the end, my friends :)

When Shay meets him outside Keith’s room with a smile on her face the next morning, Lance knows he’s about to receive good news. 

“We took another CAT scan early this morning,” She started, not bothering with a greeting in her excitement. “And the swelling has gone down drastically. He’s actually doing better than our best predictions.”

Lance blinked, the words taking seconds to sink in. He grinned back at her. “That’s great! What a relief.” 

“Dr. Theba is inside with some residents taking out the ventilator now, and they’ll be stopping the course of drugs keeping him in the coma next. But be prepared; the time it’ll take for him to wake up could be as short as a couple of hours or even more than a day.”

It hit him then. Keith was going to be waking up soon. Lance was definitely glad that it seemed like Keith was going to be okay, but he didn’t think he was the one Keith wanted to see when he woke up. That should be Shiro. 

“You’ve got a fighter.” Shay added. 

Lance realized that he had been staring into space for too long. “I sure do.” He agreed awkwardly, because he didn’t have Keith. He wasn’t sure that he had ever had him, truly. “Thank you for all your hard work. You’ve given Keith exceptional care.”

A smile bloomed on her face, cheeks tinting red. “Just doing my job.” She replied modestly. 

Lance shook his head. “I really couldn’t have asked for anyone better.” He could see them being friends, if they had met in a different way.

They talked for a while longer before Shay had to leave on her rounds with a promise that she would be coming around once more before the end of her shift. 

Lance killed time by grabbing a truly terrible cup of coffee from the machine in the waiting room, the first sip scalding his taste buds, which probably improved the taste, if he were being honest. 

The curtain around Keith’s bed was drawn, so he couldn’t see much through the window, just the shiver of the fabric as people moved around inside. He wondered what Keith would say when he woke up. Keith had already told him to get out of his life once; Lance wasn’t ready to hear it again.

Heavy footsteps rang down the corridor, much louder than the almost imperceptible sound the nurses and doctors made. Lance turned around to see who it was, and almost dropped the coffee at who he saw.

A tall, strong figure, dressed in army fatigues walked down the centre of the corridor like the walls were frames of a painting. He had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a pair of tired eyes looked back at Lance with worry.

Shiro. 

He put on a smile with no small effort when he recognised him. “Lance, thank you so much for being here.” He said, dropping his bag to the ground without care. He made an aborted movement with his arms like he was unsure whether to hug Lance or shake his hand. He settled for a hand on the shoulder. “I know this must have been difficult for you to drop your work and come here after what happened, so thank you again.”

Lance shifted his weight. “I wasn’t expecting it, and we’ve had some touch and go moments,” He said honestly. “But I’m happy I was able to help, really. And also glad you’re here. The doctors say he could wake up today.”

A breath of air escaped Shiro’s lungs and he almost staggered in relief. “Thank God.” He wheezed, a hand coming up to his heart and a smile splitting his face. “It sounded so bad over the phone.”

Lance nodded in agreement. “It was pretty bad, but he’s been fighting hard. Overachieving from a coma, and all that.”

He had half a second to wonder if the joke was in bad taste before a loud laugh escaped Shiro. “Too right.” He agreed, shoulders bouncing. 

Lance grinned. He felt a little proud of himself, that he could be able to deliver good news to Shiro. He wouldn’t have wanted to have had this conversation yesterday after Keith seized. He had done his part, he realised. Goal accomplished. 

He wasn’t sure what to do now. 

The door opened, Dr Theba appearing with a gaggle of residents behind him. “All set!” He announced to Lance, gaze getting caught on Shiro. “And this is?”

“Takashi Shirogane, Keith’s brother.” Shiro introduced, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Dr Theba smiled warmly at him but looked between the two of them, obviously unsure whom he should be addressing. 

“He’s Keith’s primary emergency contact, I was just the fill-in.” Lance supplied. He thought he saw a tendon twitch in Shiro’s neck but he probably imagined it. 

Dr Theba’s eyes lingered on him for a second too long, lips pursed, before turning to Shiro to fill him in completely on Keith’s condition. 

They walked into the room together, Lance almost making a beeline for the bedside chair before stopping himself. That chair should be Shiro’s. 

Shiro himself was obviously trying to listen to Dr Theba, but all he could do was stare at his younger brother. Lance could cut himself on the broken glass pain in his eyes. He remembered the way Keith would talk about Shiro in the early hours of the morning when his brain wouldn’t let him sleep. Shiro saved him from a life on the streets when he was barely a year out of high school. Keith had tried to steal his wallet and Shiro caught him in the act, but he didn’t report him to the police. Instead, he had bought Keith something to eat and told him he had a spare bed and that Keith was welcome to it. Once Keith admitted that he wanted to be a part of a family again, Shiro fought to legally adopt him and sent him back to school. Keith had told Lance that he owed everything he had become to Shiro.

Now his brother was lying broken in a hospital bed. 

“His system will be flushing out the course of drugs right now, so he’s on his way to waking up, but don’t get impatient if he doesn’t wake up for the rest of today.” Dr Theba was saying. “Sometimes these things take time, and we can’t predict how long he’ll take to wake up. But when he does, please be sure to call a nurse so we can make sure all motor functions are normal.”

Shiro and Lance nodded together. “Thanks, doc.” Lance said, giving him a wave as he left. He turned to see Shiro collapsing down into the bedside chair, a hand automatically reaching to take Keith’s hand in his own. “How long have you been on the move?” Lance asked. 

Shiro shrugged. “Since I got the call from Pidge, basically. We were in a pretty rural area and the ride to the airfield took a long time. From there it was just a series of flights. I’m sure I do not smell very nice right now.”

Lance laughed along with him. “I’m sure Keith won’t mind if you use his shower.” He said, inclining his head toward the bathroom door. “In the meantime, I can pick us up an early lunch.” 

“That sounds great.” Shiro agreed. “Where are you staying? I haven’t slept in a proper bed for over a month and I do not feel like spending nights in a hospital chair.”

“There’s a motel not too far from here with good rates, but I can’t remember the name,” Lance told him honestly. He paused, considering. “Though I suppose now that you’re here I’ll be making my way back to LA this afternoon.” The words felt a little dirty in his mouth. He didn’t want to think about it. 

“You’re not staying to see him wake up?” Shiro asked. There wasn’t a frown on his face. Lance was glad of that. 

Lance shrugged awkwardly, feeling out of place in the room he had hardly left in the past few days. “I’m not sure he’d want me here, with how things ended.” He told him honestly. “I’m really glad that he’s getting better and a part of me wants to make sure he’s okay, but- At the end of the day, the fact that I was still one of Keith’s emergency contacts was a mistake. I came because no one else could.” That wasn’t the only reason he came, and he knew it. 

Shiro dropped his eyes to the bedsheets, lost in thought for a few seconds. “I think Keith would want to see the person who looked out for him on his worst days no matter who that person was.” He said carefully. “And honestly, no matter how things ended between the two of you I can’t believe that Keith wouldn’t be happy to see you again. There’s something missing from DC now that you’re gone.”

Lance’s stomach was working itself into knots. He knew he could trust Shiro’s judgement, but it still felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff with no safety net. His boss had given him enough leave that he didn’t need to rush back tonight. “I’ll stay another night,” He decided. “But after that, I’ll need to return.”

Shiro’s face split into a smile. “Thanks, Lance. You’ve helped so much, I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of nightmare it would’ve been if you weren’t here.”

“It’s okay,” Lance shrugged, suddenly feeling flushed. “Anyone else would’ve done the same.”

Shiro shook his head. “But it was you. And that’s important.”

* * *

**_then._ **

His throat felt dry and itchy, and every time swallowed it felt like he was eating sand. His head pulsed with enough pain to make him feel queasy every time he moved too much, so he had slumped down into the bench as far as humanly possible, head resting on Hunk’s shoulder beside him. 

“Why me?” He whined. “The day before graduation. Who has that kind of shit luck?” His complaints probably would’ve come out stronger if his blocked nose didn’t mean that his voice came out so flat and nasally. 

On his other side, Pidge was cackling under her breath while she tried to give the impression that she was listening to the final instructions of the Dean. “You think they’ll still let you graduate if you faint walking up the stairs?”

Lance groaned. “Don’t even joke about it. That’s a very real possibility.”

Hunk shook his head. “I’m sure Keith will pamper you into feeling better by tomorrow.” He reassured him.

Pidge’s smile was full of teeth, like a shark. “And by pamper, you mean he’s gonna give you a big-”

“Ohmygod we are in a public place. Have some decency gremlin.” Lance cut in hastily.

She blinked back at him innocently. “What? I was going to say he’ll give you a big cup of tea. Get your head out of the gutter, Lance.”

“That’s not what you were going to say and we both know it.” Lance sniped back half-heartedly. 

Someone in the row behind them nudged at the backrest and hissed at them to be quiet. The Dean was still droning on about the schedule and what was expected of them, _you’ll be representing the university, return the gowns the next morning, blah blah Lance Alvarez is right, there_ is _a hamster in this lectern._

Okay, so maybe he didn’t say the last thing. But still, Lance was bored and sick and wondering why he had even bothered to show up to the graduation rehearsal in the first place. 

Lance closed his eyes, imagining that he was at home, the television on low in the background, curled up in Keith’s arms, a bowl of chicken soup in his hands. He smiled to himself.

The next thing he knew, Hunk was shaking him awake gently. “It’s over, man.” He said, easing Lance upright. “We’ll help you get to Keith. Do you know where he’s parked?”

Lance shook his head, feeling terrible and groggy after the nap. “He’s not here, ‘m taking the bus.” He told them, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Uh, not likely.” Pidge rebutted him. “You can’t see yourself, but you look like you’re about to keel over. I can’t believe that Keith would let you take the bus home. Well, maybe if the world was ending.” 

Lance stayed silent, his brain moving too slowly to come up with a rational reason. Hunk tutted. “Lance, does Keith know you’re sick?”

“’d already gone when I woke up,” Lance explained. “Didn’t want to bother him at work.”

Hunk and Pidge sighed in unison. “I’m calling Keith.” Hunk decided.

Lance tried to protest, but Pidge wouldn’t let him get any words out. “If you get on a bus, you’ll probably end up in Boston before you realized you missed your stop, dude.”

_“Hunk? Is everything alright? You don’t usually call.”_ Keith asked. 

Lance wished his private investigator boyfriend wasn’t so brilliant at catching on to when something was wrong. Pidge cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Sorry to bother you at work, buddy.” Hunk was saying. “We’ve just finished the graduation practise. Lance said he was going to take the bus home but Pidge and I think he’s too sick.”

The reply was immediate. _“He’s sick? Lance, are you okay?”_

“I’m feeling fine, really-” His traitorous lungs took that moment to erupt in a deep dry cough. Lance winced. “I’m sure you’re busy-”

“He passed out towards the end and his forehead is feeling hot.” Pidge contradicted him.

_“You’re more important to me than insurance fraud, Lance.”_ Keith grumbled, _“Give me ten minutes, I’ll take him home. Thanks for the call, guys.”_

“See you soon.” Hunk affirmed, hanging up the call. 

Pidge fake swooned, touching the back of her hand to her forehead like she was in an old Hollywood movie. “‘You’re more important to me than insurance fraud, Lance’” She repeated breathily. “You guys are gross. But I’m happy for you.”

Hunk hummed in agreement. “He’s a really good guy. You guys are good together. I look forward to being you’re best man, and we all know that Pidge is the right size for a flower girl.”

Pidge squawked in indignation and Lance spluttered. “You can’t- you don’t go around talking about other people’s weddings before they’re even engaged.” His cheeks were red, and he hoped he could blame it on the fever. Marrying Keith- it was a scary thought, how completely unopposed he was to the idea. He and Keith had been together for years now- but it still felt a little early. 

“ _Before_ they’re engaged?” Pidge had recovered quickly to come after him as well. “Does that mean you see yourself being engaged in the future?” 

Lance groaned. He loved his friends, he did, but in that moment he hated them. “No fucking comment.” 

Hunk and Pidge both burst into laughter. The hall was quickly emptying, and they helped Lance to his feet before a member of the cleaning staff could ask them to leave. They made their way to the entrance hall, Lance wincing as the beat of his footsteps pounded their way into his skull. They stopped just inside of the main doors, Lance leaning against the wall in relief, eyes slipping closed as he tried to push down the nausea. Hunk and Pidge continued to chat about postgraduate projects, Lance listening idly as the minutes slipped by.

The doors opened and footsteps approached them quickly. Lance flicked his eyes open to see Keith’s face nearing his, eyes filled with concern. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well this morning, I’ve got leave days to spare.” He chided Lance gently, fingers coming up to probe at the swelling in Lance’s neck. 

“‘S not that bad.” Lance protested weakly. 

Keith scoffed in unison with Pidge. “Right.” He turned to Hunk and Pidge. “Thanks for taking care of him, you two are good friends.”

“And don’t we know it.” Pidge added with a smile. 

Hunk patted Lance on the shoulder gingerly. “Hope you’re feeling better tomorrow, buddy.”

The two of them left together, leaving Lance in Keith’s capable hands. 

Keith’s hand drifted higher, thumbs coming up to brush gently against Lance’s cheekbones. “Let’s get you home, hmm?” He asked.

Lance nodded. Home and Keith seemed like the perfect idea right now.

* * *

Lance closes his laptop with a sigh, setting it aside and standing to stretch his arms high above him. His first draft was done; he was still a few rounds of editing away of being ready to print but he didn’t need to put himself through that now. 

Shiro looked up from the book he was cradling in his hands, newly dressed in a fresh change of civilian clothes, a gentle smile on his face. “Finished?” He asked wryly.

Lance bounced on his toes, grinning. “Damn right.” He replied, realising with a start that the direction of the sun had drastically changed. He checked the time on his phone. 6:47 pm. Some things never changed. 

He and Shiro had definitely set up camp. Lance had dragged in another armchair to the opposite side of the bed as Shiro, the two of them keeping watch like gate towers in the night. Extra blankets were charmed from the nurses, Shiro’s arranged artfully in his lap, Lance’s pooled in a mess around his feet. Their empty cartons from the diner nearby were stacked in a pile on one of the tables. The thought of food set off a growl in Lance’s stomach.

Shiro huffed out a laugh. “I think that’s a pretty good sign that it’s time for dinner.” He said, setting the book down onto Keith’s bed and moving to stand. “I’ll go ask the nurses for takeout recommendations.”

Lance moved towards the door, waving his hands at him. “Dude, you’ve just been travelling for days. Relax, I can pick us up something.”

Shiro shook his head at him. “Don’t worry Lance, I feel fine. I need to stretch my legs anyway. You already bought us lunch.” 

Lance sighed, holding his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright.” He acquiesced. “You win this time, boss man.”

Shiro laughed, pocketing his wallet and holding up a hand as he called out a farewell and left the room. Lance was alone with Keith again. 

He looked better without the respirator latched onto his face, skin taking on a bit more of a healthy colour. Shiro had arranged his arms to lie straighter, palms down so he would look stronger. More like Keith. 

He settled back into his chair, finding himself without anything to do. He definitely wasn’t going to start editing; that was a problem for future Lance. He eyed the book Shiro had left behind, considering opening it to the first page, but his mind felt too loud and busy to concentrate on reading. 

With a sigh, he fished his phone out again, resigning himself to waste away time cycling through a series of games. He got stuck on the home page, though, thumb hovering over his photos app. 

His life was busy enough in LA that he didn’t stop to take too many photos, even less to look back through him. He told himself that it was because he was too busy, and not because he wasn’t sure he could handle facing the photos he had taken with Keith. The photos he could never bring himself to delete even though he knew he should. That’s what people did when they went through a breakup, right? 

The first step to covering up a hole in your life was burning the evidence that there had ever been something there at all.

Unable to help himself, he opened up his photos, scrolling up to before he graduated. Lips tight, he clicked on a selfie of the two of them at a party. Lance’s eyes were closed in the picture as he kissed Keith’s cheek. Keith was doing his best to put on an expression of mild annoyance, but his small smile and fingers wrapped tightly around Lance’s shoulder said otherwise. 

The next one was a video that Keith didn’t know Lance was taking: a narrow shot through their bathroom door as Keith stood in front of the basin, Lance’s pumice stone in his hands. The frown on his face as he turned it over in his hands was adorable. When Keith turned on the water, running the stone under the water and rubbing his skin with a wince, Lance laughed in time with his past self taking the video. The Keith in the video brought the stone to eye level to examine it closer, like he was in CSI or something. Sighing in defeat, he placed it back in the exact place he had found it. 

He swiped to the next photo, finding it to be one Shiro had taken of the two of them in the restaurant where they had gone for Keith’s birthday. They were dressed nicely, but Keith had already loosened his tie. The past Lance was feeding him a slice of birthday cake, eyebrows raised as he tried not to laugh. They weren’t looking at the camera; eyes fixed on each other, grins splitting their faces. 

They looked so happy. That photo was only taken a couple of weeks before they broke up. Lance still didn’t know what happened, truly. He had poured over their conversations, trying to figure out where they had gone wrong, what mistake Lance had made.

It had been months already but Lance still felt like he had whiplash. 

The beeping of the heart monitor disturbed his thoughts, which was strange. After a while, the sound had easily blended into the background, so it didn’t make sense for it to bother him now.

Unless something had changed.

Heart in his throat, he dragged his eyes over to Keith, phone slipping into his pocket without thought. 

On the bed, Keith’s fingers twitched. 

Lance jumped to his feet, taking a step toward the bed before he could stop himself. His hand was stretched out- to do what? Hold Keith’s hand, like nothing had happened between them? To Keith, Lance was just an ex-boyfriend. He hovered at an awkward distance, arms falling listlessly to his sides. 

Keith stirred, a light groan falling from his mouth. Lance was going to be the first person he saw waking up. He wished he had been able to convince Shiro to stay instead. 

The skin between Keith’s eyebrows wrinkled into a frown. His chest rose in a deep breath. The sheets rasped as he shifted.

Keith’s eyes slid open. 

Lance was frozen where he stood. He knew he should say something, but he couldn’t. Keith’s gaze took in the room, blinking the sleep from his eyes. 

He caught sight of Lance and his mouth fell open, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Lance?” His voice was croaky from disuse. “What- what are you _doing_ here?”

Lance’s mouth opened but he couldn’t force any words out. Keith’s gaze was locked on his, disorientated and incredulous. What _was_ he doing here? Could he really not let go of the past so much that he had clung to looking after Keith, even after Shiro had returned? What had he expected to happen? 

Somewhere in the depths of his heart he had been hoping that they could heal things. But Keith was looking at him now like they were almost strangers.

“I don’t know.” The words crashed from his tongue to lie limp on the ground, ugly things. 

He snatched his laptop from the table, slinging his bag over his shoulder as fast as he could. He tried to swallow his tears as he made for the door.

“Lance, wait-” Keith tried, but Lance had already made up his mind. He closed the door behind him, silencing whatever Keith might say next. He tore down the hallway as fast as he could without running. Something wet slid down his cheek.

He turned the corner to the elevators and almost ran into Shiro exiting from one. “Lance? What happened?” He asked, his footsteps stalling. 

Lance slipped into the vacant elevator just as the doors started to close. “He’s awake.” He explained simply. He had no more time. He needed to go.

Shiro’s eyes widened and he reached out to stop the doors but he was too slow. Lance jammed the button for the ground floor, only able to breathe once he started descending. 

When the doors opened he spotted Shay talking to another nurse by the front desk. He turned his shoulder and slipped quietly out the door, not up to talking to her. 

He collapsed into his car, stopping by the motel long enough to grab his bags and check out. He needed to hit the road and leave Phoenix, even if it meant driving through the night. 

He doubted he would have been able to sleep anyway.

* * *

**_then._ **

Keith asked to meet on a sunny Thursday afternoon. 

The tree branches swayed in the breeze gently above Lance as he climbed the stairs to the terrace. It was one of Keith’s favorite spots, one that many people didn’t know about. Keith had taken him here on one of their first dates; they had watched as the sun dipped behind the city rooftops and shared a bottle of margarita mix. 

Lance smiled at the memory as he stepped onto the old flagstones. Keith was already there, his back to him as he looked out over the city. A plan formed in Lance’s mind. 

His footsteps light, a grin plastered on his face, he crept up behind Keith. Holding his breath, he ducked his head down to place a kiss on the nape of Keith’s neck.

It never landed. Keith spun on the spot before Lance could touch him, a hand stopping Lance’s arm that would have otherwise wrapped around his waist. 

Lance’s bones turned to cement. His eyes locked with Keith’s and he found something alien in them. Something was wrong.

“Lance, we need to talk.” Keith said finally, his hand guiding Lance’s arm to hang limply at his side. 

Lance frowned. “Okay? What’s wrong? Has something-”

“You should know that this has been coming for a long time.” Keith said evenly. “This isn’t me being impulsive or anything, I- I’ve felt this way for months.”

Lance’s mouth flapped open and close, words leaving him for a few seconds. “What are you talking about?” 

Keith grimaced. He turned his eyes to look back at the city. “I don’t think we’re right for each other, Lance.” 

Lance felt all the air leave his lungs like he’d just been kicked in the stomach. This couldn’t be happening. It felt like gravity had just doubled. When he didn’t say anything in response, Keith forged on. “It didn’t feel right to break up with you while you were studying for your finals, but now that you’re graduated I don’t have to pretend anymore. I- I feel free, now.”

Bombshells were exploding in Lance’s eardrums. “But -why?” Tears were prickling at the back of his eyes but the look in Keith’s eyes was too unfamiliar. Lance didn’t cry in front of strangers. 

A breath was forced past Keith’s lips. “You want me to say it?” His grip on the railing was iron-tight, his knuckles white. “I don’t love you, Lance.”

Lance tried to meet his eyes but Keith was staring at the air behind him. “What are you- all those times” He whispered, voice hoarse like sandpaper on silk.

“Maybe I thought I loved you, then.” Keith started, “But recently I realised that I don’t. I can’t match your feelings, Lance and it would be unfair to both of us to try and keep this going on any longer.”

“No.” Lance shook his head. He wouldn’t believe this. “You don’t mean that-”

“I do, Lance.” Keith swallowed. “You’ll thank me for this one day.”

Lance caught Keith’s wrist in his own, felt the tendons flex against his palm. “Keith, we can fix this, we just need to-”

“No, Lance.” Keith interrupted. “We can’t. Can’t you see the chasm between us?” He swallowed. “I’m staying with Shiro for a couple of nights.” But the apartment was his.

Keith ripped his hand from Lance’s grasp and walked away.

The world spun on an axis at Lance’s feet. “Keith- wait!” Lance stared at his back, waiting for him to turn around.

But Keith didn’t even flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The breakup scene is here! Please remember that all these memories are not impartial, from Lance's pov...  
> Everything is coming together! We have one last chapter and maybe maybe an epilogue! What do you think is going to happen next?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance mustered up the courage to walk into the room. “I-” The new angle showed what Keith had been reading. The latest edition of Galra Weekly, open to a page Lance knew very well. “Is that my article?”  
> There were more important things he should’ve said, but it just fell out. Keith let out a breath. “Yeah. I-” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never missed one.”  
> Lance felt like he had just stepped off a rollercoaster, stomach flipped upside down and throat dry. What did he say to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter! It's taken me much longer than I imagined it would, my personal life got hectic and so I lost the appetite to write. But then I got it back! Thanks so much to everyone who commented, I drew a lot of determination to finish from you guys <3
> 
> The title for Lance's article is taken from T. M Scanlon's book, What We Owe to Each Other.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sendak smacked his lips and levelled a look at Lance. He sat so far on the edge of his seat he almost fell off, vibrating with tension.

“The reviews have been good, Lance.” He said finally. “Well, for a green journalist as yourself.”

Lance wiggled his toes in triumph, a smile breaking upon his face. That was the first time Sendak had called him a journalist. “Thank you, sir.”

The Editor in Chief nodded sharply, looking to his computer screen with narrowed eyes. “You’ve got another issue left before the talk with the Boss about renewing your contract. Put out something good and I don’t see you having any problems.”

“I understand,” Lance replied, nodding. He burned to know what the reviews had said, but Sendak wouldn’t humour him on billed time. He would look at them later, curled up into the corner of his couch, a mug of hot chocolate in hand to comfort him. 

“Well?” Sendak shot him a look, eyebrow raised. “What are you still doing here?”

Clearing his throat, Lance quickly made his exit. He walked to his desk, most of his coworkers had already left the bullpen for home. It wasn’t rare for Lance to stay to see the golden afternoon light lengthen the shadows. It wasn’t like he had anything to go home to.

It had been a week since he walked out of Keith’s hospital room and he still felt like broken pottery with the pieces all back together but the cracks unmended. Every time he tried to sleep, Keith’s words would come back to him without fail. Only by keeping himself busy could he escape over-analyzing those days he spent in Phoenix. Only by keeping himself very busy could he tire his body into slipping asleep without his mind’s consent. 

His next stop was the gym. There was a kickboxing class tonight and Lance was looking forward to taking out some energy on the padded bags.

Lance gathered his things and made for the elevators. He passed the time to the ground floor making excruciating small chat with a woman from the insurance firm above them and tried not to breathe too deeply in relief when the doors opened to fresh air. He shouldered the front doors open, reaching into his bag for his keys-

Shiro was leaning against the telephone pole in front of the building, eyes locked on him. He had been waiting for Lance. 

Lance breathed out sharply through his nose. Shiro pushed himself off the telephone pole, striding over to the spot where Lance had stopped in his tracks. He briefly entertained the thought of running for his car, but discarded it. That would be immature. Also, he had no doubt that Shiro could catch him.

“Lance,” Shiro said evenly, shoulders relaxed, palms visible. “Can we talk?”

Lance buried his hands into his pockets. “Why are you here, Shiro?”

“Because you don’t know everything, Lance. You deserve to know, at least.” Shiro replied.

Honestly, Lance didn’t want to re-open those wounds again, not so soon after he had left like that. But he wanted to understand, and that was more important. “Yeah, okay.” He replied. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner.”

Shiro nodded in agreement and fell into step beside him. The street lights turned on. Lance twisted a ticket stub around his fingers inside his pocket. 

“Keith was discharged this morning. The doctors said he was out of the woods with the internal bleeding so it’s just plenty of resting from now on.” Shiro said, looking in front of them.

“Oh, that’s-” Lance had to clear his throat. “That’s good. I’m glad.” 

The conversation collapsed into silence until they arrived at the coffee shop. Shiro asked for an americano and Lance ordered a tea, so he wouldn’t keep himself awake for too long. 

They sit across from each other under a spherical light dimmed low. Lance took a sugar packet from the cup on the table, tipping it one way then the other, feeling the granules rush past back and forth. 

“Keith told me about what happened when he woke up.” Shiro started gently. “He’s angry that he reacted so badly, he was very confused at the time and it came out wrong. He had put a lot of thought into what he wanted to say to you when he saw you again and that wasn’t it.”

Lance’s eyes shot up. Keith had been planning on seeing him again? “I don’t understand, Shiro.” He mumbled.

Shiro’s gaze softened. “I know. You don’t have the full picture. I would tell you everything right now but you should hear it from Keith himself.” He turned his coffee cup in his hands. He hadn’t taken a sip yet. “When he was discharged this morning he was adamant that we come here to find you. He doesn’t know I’m here right now, actually. Waiting outside your work was actually his plan for tomorrow.”

Lance could picture it now, walking out of the building and finding Keith there waiting for him, some incomprehensible emotion in his eyes. But Keith had a broken arm and ribs. “But- he was just in the hospital?”

Shiro’s lips twisted. “Yeah. But he’ll try anyway. That’s why I’m here.” He took in a deep breath. “I came to ask you to come and hear Keith out so he doesn’t half kill himself finding you. I’m not asking you to forgive him, just listen.”

Lance clenched his cup tightly in his hands so the shaking wasn’t visible. “I-” When they broke up, Lance had told himself he would never see Keith again if he could help it. When he had gotten that call from the ICU in Phoenix he didn’t have a choice, but he had one now. Keith had asked him to wait and Lance had left anyway. That was the moment he couldn’t stop thinking about. In his heart, Lance wanted to know what Keith was going to say. “Okay,” He said finally. “I’ll listen.”

Shiro smiled widely. “Thanks, Lance. I just- Thank you.” He took his first sip of coffee, arms moving freely. “Is now too soon? You could come tomorrow-”

Lance shook his head. There was no way he would be able to fall asleep thinking about confronting Keith. He had to do it now or maybe he never would. “No, now is good, I think.”

He was going to see Keith, that was certain. But everything after that? He had no idea.

* * *

**_then._ **

He and Keith each had a half of the closet, a clear line between Keith’s almost identical black shirts and Lance’s button-up printed with tiny sharks. It made it easy to throw all his things in a suitcase. 

He kept his eyes trained in front of him, kept his hands moving. He didn’t stop to look at Keith’s watch ticking away on the bedside table, or the framed picture of the two of them at the aquarium on their anniversary.

(He’s lying, of course. Keith’s watch runs three minutes fast so he’s never late and the Lance in the picture isn’t looking at the camera, but at a tiger shark overhead. Keith is looking at Lance, the corner of his lips turned up in a soft smile.)

It doesn’t make him cry.

(That’s a lie, too.)

His fingers stutter when he reaches his Abuelo's bottle green bomber jacket. The lining is soft wool and Lance’s mother had sewn on leather patches on the elbows when the material had worn thin. He loved this jacket. 

It was also the jacket that Keith liked to borrow. Slowly, telling himself it was a bad idea, he brought the material up to his nose. It smelt woody and spicy like Keith’s cologne. Lance would wash it when he got to Los Angeles. 

A more impulsive person would leave the bathroom tap running, or drop the Xbox off the balcony. But Lance wasn’t like that. Instead, he left the gold bracelet Keith had bought him in the middle of their dresser so Keith would see it and dropped the waffle iron Hunk had gifted to the both of them on top of his clothes. 

His books went in another bag; he’d ask Pidge to send them on later. He had to sit on his suitcase to zip it up, only to unzip it again to squeeze in his laptop charger. He checked his backpack to make sure he had everything, putting the acceptance letter in his laptop sleeve so it wouldn’t get wrinkled. He was ready to get out of DC. 

Standing by the door, he let himself look back at the apartment. He expected it to look like something huge was missing, an obvious hurting wound. 

But it just looked like an apartment where someone lived. Lance had just erased himself but the walls wouldn’t miss him. 

His phone chimed; a message from Pidge telling him that they were there. Lance dragged all his things out into the hallway and locked the door. He tried to work the key off his mermaid keychain but his fingers were shaking too badly. He bit down on a cry of frustration and decided that the keychain wasn’t that important. He slid the whole thing under the door. 

There was no turning back now. 

He piled all his things into the elevator and was met with a bone-crushing hug from Hunk at the bottom. He only had a second to breathe before Pidge, for all that she hated physical affection, wrapped her bony arms around his shoulders too. He half choked on an ugly sound somewhere between a sob and a wheeze. Pidge rubbed a circle into his shoulder blade before pulling away.

“We’re here for you Lance.” Hunk said, trying to sound uplifting but his lips tugged downwards. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Lance replied immediately. He winced at the tone. “But I want it to be.”

Pidge stared him down, her gaze rooting him to the spot. “Are you sure about this job? LA is really far away.”

He stared back at her levely. “Yeah, I am. It’s what I need.”

She looked at him for a few more seconds, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you to the airport.”

* * *

Lance took the subway to work, so Shiro drove them in the car he had rented. Lance didn’t have much appetite for conversation, head swimming in different possible scenarios. What more did Keith want to tell him?

They arrived at a small hotel squashed between two bigger buildings. Shiro guided him into the elevator, finger hesitating over the button for the fifth floor. “If you don’t want to see him, we can turn back right now and I’ll drive you home.” Shiro told him seriously. “No questions asked.”

Lance smiled at Shiro’s reflection in the mirrored wall. “I’m good. But thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro jerked his head up and down a few times in an imitation of nodding. “Okay.” He pressed the button and they started to rise.

He lead them to room 502. “I’m going to be in the diner across the street. I’ll get a window seat so if you want to leave, just go to the car and I’ll come out, okay?”

Lance nodded, suddenly preoccupied with the slump of his shoulders. He straightened up, setting his shoulders square. “Okay.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

Shiro turned the key in the lock and swung the door open for the two of them.

The room wasn’t anything special, beige furniture and off white walls. A window gave an uninspiring view of the building across the street, a billboard for a telephone provider perched on top. The television in the living area was set to the news but the sound was turned off. And there on the couch lay Keith, a blanket over his legs and a red beanie on his head. He hadn’t turned his head to the door, staring down at something in his hands. “That was a long trip to the supermarket.” He said dryly. 

“Yeah, I was lying about that before,” Shiro confessed, taking a step further into the room. “I’ve brought someone to see you.” 

Lance found himself caught in the doorway, unable to move forward or back. 

“Who..” Keith started, trailing off as he pulled himself with his good arm to twist around towards the door. His eyes fell on Lance and he choked on air. “Lance?” 

Lance mustered up the courage to walk into the room. “I-” The new angle showed what Keith had been reading. The latest edition of  _ Galra Weekly,  _ open to a page Lance knew very well _.  _ “Is that my article?”

There were more important things he should’ve said, but it just fell out. Keith let out a breath. “Yeah. I-” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never missed one.”

Lance felt like he had just stepped off a rollercoaster, stomach flipped upside down and throat dry. What did he say to that?

Shiro clapped his hands together and Lance remembered that he was still in the room. “Well, I’m going to let you guys talk this out. See you in… some amount of time.” He slipped behind Lance out into the hallway. “Bye.” 

The door closed behind him and Lance didn’t know where to put his feet.

“ _ What We Owe to Each Other.  _ It’s really good, Lance.” Keith broached softly. “I think it’s my favorite. ‘You owe it to your heart’s memory to treat even those who have hurt you with respect.’ It’s beautiful writing.”

Lance swallowed. “I, uh- thank you.”

“Listen, Lance,” Keith cleared his throat, eyes taking a long second to meet Lance’s gaze. “I- I’m sorry. I can’t even say how sorry I am. What I said to you-”

“Keith.” Lance broke in. “I get it. You were confused, and didn’t know why I was there. I reacted badly too. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” Keith looked at him firmly, holding him there. “I hurt you, so it’s not okay. Don’t give me an out like that.” 

Lance felt his chest grow hot and eyes prickle. “I-” All of a sudden he felt ten years old again and falling from a tree. He had felt fine until his aunt had rushed to him and checked him over, fingers fluttering like butterfly wings. She asked him where it hurt, her lips turned down. That was when Lance had cried. He had that same feeling now. “Okay. You just- I have never felt so broken, Keith. No one else has made me feel like this, all twisted and wrong. When you woke up- I was on a knife-edge and I couldn’t bear for things to get worse so I left before they could.”

Keith nodded. “I’m so sorry, Lance.” He said again. “I’m ashamed I did that to you. I just- Can you come here?” He asked softly, pulling his legs down to make space beside him on the couch, the blanket pooling in a mess at his feet.

Part of Lance baulked at the idea of sitting so close, emotions naked. But the larger part yearned to be close to him again. He breathed deeply to claw some of his composure back and crossed the room to sit beside Keith. “I think more than anything I need to know the truth, Keith. Because I thought you loved me and then you told me just how wrong I was. The worst thing is, I haven’t been able to believe you all these months. I- I can’t let go of you, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“I found your acceptance letter.” Keith blurted out. “The day before your graduation. That’s why I broke up with you. I couldn’t- I couldn’t hold you back from that opportunity, Lance.”

Lance swallowed. The narrative underneath Keith’s actions started to become clear for him. “I was going to stay. I was going to stay for you.”

“That was what I was afraid of,” Keith said, shaking his head. “I- I was terrified of being that important to you. I thought one day you would wake up in our apartment and find that letter again and-” He sighed, running his hand over his beanie, seeming to remember halfway through the motion his lack of hair. “I thought you would regret not taking it. That you would regret choosing me.”

“Keith, you never gave me that choice.” Lance’s chest ached. “I could have never in any reality imagined regretting choosing you.”

“I’m sorry I took that choice from you,” Keith replied, his voice taking on a raw edge. “I’m sorry I lied when I broke up with you. You have to know- everything I said to you then wasn’t true.”

Lance wanted to believe him so much it hurt. “I just wish we had talked this out properly.”

Keith winced. “Yeah, I realise that now. Are you-” He bit his lip. “I understand that you’re mad.” 

“I’m not mad, Keith,” Lance confessed. “I’m more sad. I can’t stop thinking how different these past months I’ve spent trying to hate you could’ve been.”

“I’ve thought a lot about that.” Keith told him, gaze like an open wound. “It’s what drove me here.”

Lance frowned. “From the hospital? I thought you just wanted to apologize for what happened when you woke up.”

Keith was already shaking his head. “I left DC to find you here. I was- I had a lot planned, but then the crash happened.”

Lance had to take a couple seconds to remember how to breathe. All this time, Keith had been coming to see him. “But- why?” He realised that the whole reason Keith had been hit was because he was trying to find Lance. “You got hurt because of me.”

“No, Lance.” Keith shifted forward to hold Lance’s hand in his own, gripping tightly. “I got hurt because of a dangerous driver. Why I was there had no effect, okay?”

Lance knew he was right. “Okay.” 

“And as to why, well- I found my mother.” Keith frowned. “That didn’t come out right. I meant that when I found my mother she made me realise some things.”

Lance hummed, tucking his foot underneath his thigh. “What happened?”

“Her name came up in a drug trafficking ring case I was working on. She was an undercover agent for the FBI, but they were forced to make a bust too early. The kingpin and some of the generals escaped and they were able to figure out that she was the mole. She had to be put into witness protection but didn’t want to bring me and my dad into it. My dad died before he thought I was old enough to know, so I never had a clue.” He breathed in deeply. “I tried to get her location out of the FBI but they refused to tell anyone until the criminals were prosecuted.

“So I worked the case and made sure they ended up behind bars. When I finally saw her… I don’t know what I was expecting. She was a stranger, you know?” His fingers drummed against the back of Lance’s hand. “But she told me about how she let go of my dad once and then lost him forever. She had to learn that my dad died from a phone call from her handler. 

“I- I realised that it would kill me to lose you. That I regretted leaving you like that. I couldn’t- I couldn’t go back and try and just live in DC if you weren’t there, Lance.” He looked down at his lap. “I quit my job to come here. It should never have been a choice between your job and our relationship, because- because I love you the same no matter where we are.” 

“Keith,” Lance breathed. “I-”

“I don’t want you to say it back because you feel like you need to.” Keith interjected. “I just wanted you to know. I want- I want to fix things between us.”

Lance looked at him for a few moments, considering. Keith had just unloaded a lot on him. He knew that he could say every horrible thing he had thought after their break-up and Keith would just take it. But knowing Keith’s side, Lance knew he would forgive him soon. “That day- you really hurt me.” He said.

“I know.” Keith replied. 

“When I had to see you in hospital like that, it brought all that hurt back up to the surface, but- and it might take me some time-” Lance continued, “But I want to be in love with you again.”

Breath rushed out of Keith’s lungs. He blinked quickly. “Can I- can I kiss you?” He asked softly. 

Something warm bloomed underneath Lance’s ribs. Slowly, he leant forward, careful of the cast on Keith’s arm, hand slipping out of Keith grasp to wrap gently around the back of Keith’s neck. He came to a stop, only half an inch of space left between their lips. Lance could feel Keith’s pulse racing, how his frame shook with tension trying to stay still. “Yes,” Lance whispered, and closed the distance.

The kiss was soft and sweet, an apology and a welcome home at the same time. They didn’t have to rush; there were no gasps and desperate fingers. Keith spread his hands lightly over Lance’s ribs. Lance felt safe in his hold.

They parted and Lance leant his forehead against Keith’s. “What happens now?” Lance asked quietly.

Keith shifted back so he could look Lance in the eyes. “Well, I can see if the DA’s office is hiring here, and then after- I’ll start looking for apartments.” 

Something about that sounded wrong to Lance. Keith must have caught his frown. “Is that okay?” He asked. 

“I don’t-” When Lance tried to think of a future for him and Keith in Los Angeles, he couldn’t imagine anything. Then it dawned on him. He had come to LA for two reasons: to put distance between him and Keith, which wasn’t a problem anymore, and for the job with Galra Weekly, which had seemed sweeter than it actually was. “I just realised I hate living in Los Angeles.”

Keith blinked back at him. “What? But your job-”

“It’s just a job.” Lance cut in. “They have newspapers and magazines in DC too. Now that I have a little experience it makes it so much easier to land a post somewhere else. There just isn’t anything keeping me here anymore.” 

“Are you sure?” Keith asked him, watching Lance carefully. For any sign of a lie, Lance knew.

“I am,” Lance affirmed. “Why should we be in LA when Hunk, Pidge and Shiro are all in DC? I haven’t been able to get a break long enough to travel all the way back to Cuba, and DC is so much closer. It’s the city you know. It just makes sense.”

Keith nodded back at him, dumbfounded. “Okay,” He said. “Okay, let’s do it.” 

Lance grinned back at him. He laced his fingers with Keith’s, bringing their hands up to place a kiss over the scars on Keith’s knuckles. “A new, familiar beginning.” He proposed.

“I can’t wait.” Keith told him. After months of confusion, a feeling like an old friend came back. Lance understood him perfectly.

* * *

**_then, the first time._ **

Lance pushed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth as he knocked on the door again. It was a sweaty August afternoon and Lance was spending his summer break sinking his teeth into stories for the university press.

This particular story had lead him to the suburbs, the exact change for his bus ride back jangling in his pocket and nothing else. “Mr Chapman?” He called out, pounding on the door harder. It had taken him over an hour to get out here and he didn’t want to go back to his tiny apartment empty-handed.

“If you’re trying to sell something I suggest you skip this house.” A gruff voice came from behind him.

Lance swung around hard to see a man getting off his motorcycle, tugging off his helmet to reveal mussed black hair. He unzipped his leather jacket to reveal a black singlet underneath. Lance swallowed hard. “I’m not selling anything. I’m here to talk to Mr Chapman about fixing scholarships for personal gain.” 

The mystery man approached the front stoop, raising an eyebrow at him. “Seems like we’re here for the same reason. I can’t let you in on a police investigation, though.” He grinned back at him and he was so gorgeous that Lance believed him for a second.

“No, you’re not.” Lance bit back.

The man frowned at him. “Uh, yes I am.” 

Lance bit his lip. He told himself it was just to keep in a chuckle. “Not with that mullet you’re not.”

The man tipped his head back in a laugh. “Wow. That hurts.” He crossed his arms. “So how does obstruction of justice sound coming from this mullet?”

Lance clicked his tongue. “Show me your badge, then.” He countered, hoping he was right. 

The man stilled, eyes flicking back to appraise Lance more closely. “Okay, okay, you got me.” 

Lance celebrated internally, willing his face blank. “Impersonating a police officer is a crime. You would’ve known that, of course, had you been a real one.”

“I’m a Private Investigator for the DA’s office, so it’s close enough.” The man replied, corner of his mouth ticking up as he offered his hand. “Keith Kogane.”

Lance smiled, shaking his hand. “Lance McClain.”

Keith’s eyes flickered over to the window. “I can get you into this house if you agree to hold your article until Monday.”

“How did you know-” Lance trailed off when Keith’s eyes trailing up and down his figure gave him answer enough. “Why Monday?”

“The DA is announcing the case Monday morning. You can post simultaneously if you like and be the first to the punch.”

Lance considered it for a moment. It was a good deal. He hadn’t even been planning on putting out the article until later in the week anyway. “You’ve got a deal.” He affirmed.

Keith grinned back at him. “Good,” He said with a nod. “I don’t suppose you could see a shape that might resemble a collapsed Mr Chapman through that window, could you?” 

Lance caught on quickly. He craned his neck to look through the window. “Oh dear,” He said blankly. “I can see a shape that might resemble a collapsed Mr Chapman.”

Keith’s grin grew wider. He cocked his head to the side. “Well, we better go see if he’s alright, shouldn’t we?” With that, he lifted up a knee and kicked the door open. 

Twenty minutes and a collection of damning evidence later, Lance found himself perched on the back of Keith’s motorcycle, arms wrapped around Keith’s waist tightly. The wind ripped by them as they leaned into a turn and Lance couldn’t have held the adrenaline-laced shout in his lungs if he’d tried. 

(If he later invited Keith up for a coffee, well. The rest would be history.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are. What did you think of the ending?   
> Some thoughts about what happens after the ending of this fic:  
> -Allura revives her father's old paper, The Altean Times in DC. Lance then lands a job with her when he moves back and it leads to a beautiful friendship.  
> -Lance never misses an opportunity to plug how amazing Hunk and Pidge are into his articles and highlight their new inventions and developments  
> -Keith is Shiro's best man when he marries Adam and cries during his speech at the reception.  
> -Lance is terrified the first time Krolia asks to speak with him one-on-one because he thinks he's going to get the shovel talk but really Krolia just wanted to tell him that she can see how happy he makes Keith.  
> -Keith and Lance are the most well-known regulars at the aquarium and Keith talks the staff into letting Lance swim in the tank so Keith can propose to him from the other side of the glass. 
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone who has followed this fic! I don't have any klance fic ideas ruining my life at the moment, but if you'd like to read more of my klance writing you can check out my previous fics! There's a gangster Keith au and an undercover as a prostitute Lance and good samaritan Keith au!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought! What do you think happened to Lance and Keith's relationship? I'd love to hear your theories :3
> 
> Come chat to me on my tumblr @mottainai!


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